


St. Morrissey and the King George Christmas Miracle

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Holidays, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I believe, I believe; it’s silly but I believe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	St. Morrissey and the King George Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas stories are some of my favorites. Everything looks better with lights and garland and angels…what can I say. This is not my usual Hotch/Prentiss and the events of _100_ were not altered for this story. Also, the King George Hotel does not exist but the Hotel George does. I like mine better. 
> 
> This might be my favorite Hotch/Prentiss fic I ever wrote. Not the most popular, the easiest, or the hardest or the one everyone loves...just my favorite.

“Prentiss?”

“I'm not trespassing.” She didn’t bother looking up; she already knew who she was talking to.

“I know that. The security guard told me where to find you. What are you doing?”

“I've been staring at it for almost 20 minutes and I can't find a single error. I've seen magnificent knock offs in my time but this is amazing.”

Hotch walked further into the dimly lit room. He looked at Emily sitting on the bench and then at the painting that had her mesmerized. He sat down beside her and sighed.

“You're not having a good time tonight?” Hotch asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“I'm not asking you what you said; I'm asking you how you feel.”

Emily looked at him for a moment before going back to the painting. Tonight was the BAU’s annual Christmas party. They were having it at the King George Hotel in DC this year. 60 profilers, 12 tech analysts, at least 25 support staff plus friends and loved ones had a room to themselves for the evening. Even with Strauss and Deputy Director Douglas making an appearance there was still plenty of comfort and joy. There was also a horn band, conversation, and a little grab ass.

No one did grab ass like drunk, lonely federal employees. Yet Emily sat in a room next door staring at a painting. The day after tomorrow it would be crowded with more artwork, all of it counterfeit, for an FBI seminar on forgery. Apparently, it was making a very big comeback all over the world. From her solitary bench, which was solitary no more, Emily could hear her colleagues living it up. They all deserved it after the year they had. Still, her heart wasn’t in it.

“This is my favorite painting. I always visit it whenever I'm in Paris.”

“It’s slightly morbid.” Hotch replied.

It was Salome Receiving the Head of John the Baptist by Bernardino Luini. Emily saw it for the first time when she was just a little girl. She felt connected to it; took it into her heart.

“Do you know the story of Salome, Hotch?” She asked.

“She danced for her stepfather, King Herod. He told her he would grant her any request and she asked for the head of John the Baptist. Her mother made her do it; she was just a teenage girl. She probably cared as much about John the Baptist as she did her stepfather.”

“Notice how she turns away when presented with her gift. It’s the classic example of the consequences of overindulgence.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Emily nodded.

“I think you should come back and enjoy the party.” Hotch said. “People were asking where you disappeared to.”

“I have a love/hate relationship with parties.”

“I can surely understand that. What’s the matter, Prentiss?”

“It’s been a long year,” She looked at him. “But I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”

“We get knocked down but we always get back up.”

“Not always.” She replied.

“That’s what family is for. You're never alone when you have family like ours. They brush you off, dry your tears, get you drunk, and make you laugh…they love you no matter what. This is a little more somber than I hoped to be tonight.”

“I didn’t ask for company.”

“No,” Hotch shook his head. “You didn’t. I was looking for you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to give you your present.”

“I'm sorry?”

“I wanted to give you your Christmas present.” He pulled the box from his inside jacket pocket. He put it in the palm of Emily’s hand.

She couldn’t believe she was holding a Christmas present from Aaron Hotchner. There had been cards over the years, he was always courteous, but nothing like this.

“What is this?”

“Open it.”

“I didn’t buy you a present.” Emily replied.

“I bet that’s not true; you always buy everyone presents.”

“Hotch, I…”

“Emily, open the box.”

She nodded, popping open the small jewelry box. Smiling when she saw the medallion, Emily took it from its soft velvet bed.

“It’s lovely. I don’t know what to say, it’s…Hotch?”

“It’s St. Eligius.” Hotch said.

“St. Elsewhere.” Emily laughed a bit.

“Not tonight. It’s a little play on words. St. Eligius is the patron saint of smiths. You’ve said on more than one occasion that The Smiths saved your life; I think you should have him around your neck.”

Emily laughed, biting her lip. Her fingers toyed with the medallion.

“Hotch, I think this is the sweetest gift I've ever received. Now I'm gonna cry.”

“Crying is OK.” Hotch replied.

“You put a lot of thought into this.” No, crying was not OK. She was going to do everything in her power not to lose it in front of Hotch. Emily didn’t like to fail.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because you're very special, Emily. Sometimes I watch you hold the world together with just your two hands and your sheer determination. So many times you’ve reached out to those you love, and even complete strangers, and you never ask for anything in return. Your happiness is the happiness of those around you. And when your pain comes, you still hold your head up and fight. I think you deserve that medallion and so much more.”

“Deserve is a word I have a lot of trouble with. I come from a world where people think they deserve everything, including what you don’t want to give.”

“It’s a familiar place to me as well.” Hotch said. “You didn’t stay there, Emily. You moved on, you grew, you learned, and you blossomed. You are a beautiful, strong, vibrant, and very admirable woman.”

“Why are you saying these things?”

Emily stood from the bench, walking away. She turned her back to Hotch but still gripped the medallion in her hand. She would put it around her neck tonight and never take it off. Hotch stood as well.

“I'm saying them because they're true. When I was at my lowest, you were there. I would turn and you were just there. Sometimes you wouldn’t say a word, often times; I sensed your apprehension at coming too close. But you were just a breath away. I wanted to reach out to you but I didn’t know how. It’s not easy to let your guard down when you repeatedly know the pain of doing so. Something inside of you, Emily Prentiss, allows your pain to become your strength, and you let it become mine out of nothing but kindness and empathy. Look at me, please.”

She did as he asked. For Hotch, her brown eyes were a window into her world. It was why he hardly looked at her directly for so many years. It was hard to look at her and not want to be there. He had a role, she had a role, and that’s the way it was. Things changed months ago…maybe even before that if Hotch let himself think about it. He had been blinded, by one thing and then by many, but now he saw it all clearly.

“You said you didn’t get me anything for Christmas.”

“I wanted to, of course, but time got away from me. I admit to going a little overboard on Jack; I think we all did. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t. He adores you, you know. You’ve been there for him and I appreciate it so much.”

“I only do what I can to help, Hotch. Your little boy is…” Emily sighed.

“There is something you can give me.”

“What is it?”

“Your hand,” Hotch held out his hand. “Give me your hand, Emily, and I’ll never let it go.”

She reached out, fingers lacing through his. Hotch pulled her close and held her against him. He heard her exhale in his ear; it made him hold on tighter.

“I feel like Natalie Wood at the end of _Miracle on 34th Street_.” She whispered. “Except I'm not five anymore and I don’t want a dream house.”

“I believe, I believe; it’s silly but I believe.” Hotch quoted the movie.

“Exactly. I believe in miracles, Aaron, and I have loved you for so long.”

“I love you too. Look at all it took to make me see sense.”

“But you…”

Hotch kissed her, passionately. Emily moaned into his mouth. She slid her arms around his neck and held him even closer.

“Tell me what you want for Christmas, Emily.” He whispered against her lips.

“Nothing,”

“No, tell me.” He kissed her again. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“This bliss, Hotch. I want this bliss, everyday, every moment, forever. I think that’s asking too much.”

“I think it’s just perfect, or at least it can be. Hold onto me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ditto,”

They needed to get back to the party. First she disappeared and then Hotch disappeared looking for her. They needed to be with their family. Being together was going to be amazing but right now they needed to share the joy with everyone they loved. Hotch took her hand, leading her out of the empty room and back to the party.

“Look who I found.” He said to Garcia as he and Emily walked into the thick of it.

“We thought you had bailed on us, Peaches.”

“Never,”

“Well, come this way,” Garcia took hold of her hand. “I've got a big surprise for you.”

“I don’t know if I can handle anymore surprises tonight, Penelope. I already feel like I'm floating on air.”

“Good, let’s see if we can keep that smile on your face.”

“It’ll be interesting to see if anything can wipe it off.” Emily took another glance at Hotch before Garcia whisked her away to places unknown.

***


End file.
